


A Final Good-Bye

by UnwrittenFantasy



Series: Solavellan Short Stories [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aminthia, Aminthia Lavellan - Freeform, F/M, Sad Ending, Solavellan, Trespasser, Trespasser DLC, sad stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 23:57:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13306053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnwrittenFantasy/pseuds/UnwrittenFantasy
Summary: After two years of searching night and day for the one she loves, Aminthia may finally get to see him again. Only she didn't count on this being her final good-bye.--This takes place during the ending scene of Trespasser (so beware of spoilers). Obviously edited to fit my character's personality and my own depiction better. Beware of blood, sweat, and tears. LOTS OF TEARS.





	A Final Good-Bye

Aminthia stumbled forward from the eluvian, her body swaying unsteadily, weak and shaky with every step. She hadn’t felt this tired in a long time.

She had just come out of the fight with the saarebas in victory, however, it had taken much more of her strength than she dared realize. Her muscles throbbed with a dull ache, making her knees weak and her lungs seize.

Gasping for air, she leaned forward against a large stone to catch her breath. She gripped at her side, coughing, tasting a spot of blood on her lips. Her stomach was numb. She knew that it only meant something was wrong.

Saarebas had summoned quite an army of demons to fight, and in protecting Sera from the electric whip of the Pride demon, Aminthia had jumped right in the way. The wound did not bleed, but her entire side was blackened from the initial attack. Her insides churned with every heartbeat. It was becoming more and more painful just to breathe.

Her vision was compromised in her left eye from a bloody cut just above her brow. She wiped at her face, smearing blood and sweat across her sleeve before her vision became clear enough to see the view before her.

What she assumed was once a beautiful valley was instead ruin and decay, distorted by the tears that welled in her wounded eye. Everything looked old and ancient, like everything else she had seen in the past few days. Elvhen. These ruins were at least in better shape than some of the temples she had seen in the past.

She peered up at the stone she leaned on, expecting it to be the wall of a ruin. Instead, it was… a Qunari? Curious, it looked like a Qunari warrior about to strike-

“Creators!” She jumped away, stumbling backward with a startled yelp. She was being attacked!

Except the Qunari didn’t move. He stood still, his features frozen forever like that of a statue. She was still breathing heavily, every breath like glass in her lungs, as she shakily stood back up.

He was a statue. All around her were stone statues of Qunari. All in mid-battle, spears raised and faces twisted in battle-cries. Were they alive or dead?

The mark on her hand began to flare up, green sparks bouncing from her skin and flickering to the ground. Unimaginable pain stole away her breath causing her to stumble forward, her right hand gripping her left palm as tightly as possible as she tried not to scream. Taking a shaky step around the frozen qunari, his face forever still and unseeing, she tried not to look at him- or any of them. It was haunting, the statues all dead without marks, stopped in time for all of eternity. She needed to ignore them, to endure. She needed to keep moving. She needed to stop Viddasala before it was too late.

She noticed the glow of another eluvian at the crescent of a hill. Perhaps this was the one that would lead her to him. Or, perhaps it would just take her further and further into the Crossroads, a world between. A world that she may search eternity in, search for the love that she lost.

As she made her way up the hill, every step more painful than the last, a voice stole her attention. She jerked her head up, her feet closing the few paces between her and the sight of the eluvian. A female qunari stood in front of her. Viddasala. An elven man stood further away from them both, his back turned. Aminthia couldn’t speak, her combined fear and anger of Viddasala choking her. She stumbled forward, reaching for her staff in an attempt to attack her.

Viddasala didn’t even notice her, that or she ignored her, and screamed at the elven man. She rose her spear to strike him down, shouting angrily as she charged him. Aminthia suddenly found her voice, a surprised scream of both pain and rage rising in her chest. Her mark sparked angrily as she channeled her magic through her staff in an attempt to stop the Qunari woman from killing anyone else.

But then nothing happened.

No blood, no sound of the blade hitting flesh. No flash of magic from Aminthia’s staff. The qunari was frozen, just as her comrades below, her body in a permanent shape of attack.

The elven mage turned slightly, his eyes like thunderclouds for only a moment before they returned to normal. A familiar normal. A shade of blue and grey, like a cloudy afternoon, when the rain comes down dreary, leaving the ground damp with a scent of wet earth.

Aminthia gasped, her staff clattering to the ground as her eyes grew wide and mouth fell open. Stumbling backward she hit a tree, her hands going to her face in shock. It can’t be- but it is! She had dreamed so many nights of finding him again, of seeing him once more, but never had she actually thought that it would be like this. So unexpected, in the middle of stopping a war with Saharon. Her hands were shaky, unbelieving as she went to reach out towards him. A word fell from her lips, tasting both bitter and sweet, having not been spoken since the last time she saw him.

“Vhenan-”

The mark flared. It hurt. A lot. She cried out as she fell to her knees upon the ground, gripping her hand in a desperate attempt to make the pain go away. In an instant he was beside her, his hands cradling her fists between them, holding them still as the pain slowly softened. It flowed from her, like water trickling down her skin, dripping from her fingertips until there was no more. “There. That will help, but only for a time,” he said in a hushed whisper.

She could not find the words. She choked. A stray tear found its way down her cheek.

“Solas?”

He released her hands, however slowly, and reached towards her face. Steadily, he took his thumb and wiped the tear away as his eyes drank her features in. A look of despair crossed his expression when he took notice of her wounds.

Finally, he rested his whole palm on her cheek, where she pressed against his welcomed touch. That only summoned more tears as they flowed freely from her watering eyes. Face and body a mess, her soul feeling just as so, she found the strength to fling her arms around him, burying her face into the wolf pelt he adorned on his shoulder.

Between muffled breaths, she managed to whimper, “Oh Solas, I searched everywhere for you- I spent every day looking in the places I thought you would be, and I dreamed every night of finding you in the fade. I started to think that I would never see you again-” His sudden change in posture surprised her, as he pulled away and stood, putting several feet between the two of them. He turned, his head shaking just slightly. Sadly?

“Solas..?” Aminthia’s voice was weak, hoarse. She remained on the ground, her hands shaking as they squeezed the cloak of her outfit, twisting the matted shreds between her fingers. Why was he acting this way? “Solas... I thought- I thought you would be happy to see me...” Her voice grew quiet as she spoke, falling into the silence of the valley.

Solas stood very still for several long moments. Finally, he turned to face her, yet he made no move to come nearer, “I am sorry, vhenan. I did not mean to hurt you. I tried to avoid it-”

“You never hurt me, Solas,” Aminthia pleads, her eyes staring at the ripped and burned cloth in her hands, “You could never hurt me. I just thought.. you left for a reason I’m sure. I just wanted to know.. why?”

Her unspoken question hung in the air after her spoken words: ‘Are you the agent of Fen’Harel?’ Would that explain why he left so suddenly? And if so, why did he not tell her?

Solas’ eyes softened. He was quiet for a moment, before saying, “You cannot lie to me, vhenan. Your lower lip trembles when you lie. I know I broke your heart. I hurt you. And I can never forgive myself for that.”

There was a long pause, an intense silence hanging in the air. “As for why I left,” he finally said with a sad tone, “I work for no one but myself. And I cannot bring the Inquisition into what it is I must do. I cannot bear to bring you down the path I have chosen for myself.”

Confusion written on her features, Aminthia stared at him with the slightest tilt of her head. She looked at his stance, his clothing, then finally her eyes met his.

It clicked, a look of understanding lighting up face. “You’re… you’re Fen’Harel?” Her voice cracked. Of course he was, it all makes sense now. The talks about the Fade, the subtle gestures, and references to the past that the Dalish has forgotten. A rush of memories, both happy and sad, hits her rather hard.

Solas nodded, “You are surprised.” He said so matter-of-factly. “Yet you seem to believe me?” He looked almost relieved, yet he kept his emotions hidden rather well. He was always able to read her, and she always struggled to read him. It wasn’t fair.

“I met Mythal,” she responded, her fingers ghosting over the memory of the tattoos that once adorned her face; the vallaslin of Mythal. Her eyes closed at the memory of the day she received them, and how proud she had felt. Then the memory of how she lost them replaces it, of how she learned what the vallaslin really was, and how she put her entire faith into the man who stood away from her now. Of how he took the Dalish tattoo’s away from her. New tears found their way to the surface, trickling down her already soaking skin. The mix of blood and salt left a sickening taste on her tongue.

“Are you afraid of me?”

She hesitated, her breathing was as unsteady as her heart. Fen’Harel. The Dread Wolf. The God who tricked the others and sealed them all away forever. The God who hurt the elven people for fun and sport. The man she fell in love with was not a man, but a God. An ancient being whose stories were meant to frighten little children into behaving. Yet he was so much more, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he?

There was a man who stood before her now, who cared for people and spirits alike, who valued his friendships and was unafraid to teach what he knew. Who helped her learn to read, to fight, to be a stronger woman. The man who held her close on nights where she could not sleep, and who whispered sweet nothings in the dark. The man who left without warning, taking her whole heart with him.

Opening her eyes, she shook her head slowly. He watched her, eyes studying her, looking for the lie. This was no lie.

“No, I am not afraid of you. I saw the stories in the temple, in the ruins. The Dread Wolf saved the elves, he- you.. you helped them,” the corners of her mouth tugged upwards into a small smile, “And you helped me. You helped me over and over, and you saved me. And you saved Varric and Cassandra, Iron Bull and Sera, the Chargers, Blackwall, Vivienne, Dorian, Cole... Josie and Leliana and Cullen... I could never have defeated Corypheus without you- and you loved me and-” she started to sob.

Her whole body shook as her arms wrapped around herself, holding herself. It almost scared Solas, if it weren’t for the fact that her sobs were mixed with a sad sort of laughter. “Yet another thing the Dalish got wrong, right? Our history, our stories, it’s all wrong. The Dread Wolf was supposed to be the bad guy, the wolf who lead the world astray, and yet it turns out he’s just... he’s just..” She hid her face in her hands, “He’s just a man who wants to help people... and in the process, he’s hurting himself.”

Time seemed to stand still, or perhaps it just dragged on forever. The pain was slowly seeping back into her hand, starting at her fingertips. Would it kill her? She was afraid. And when her fear grew, her sobs turning into hiccups and sporadic breathing, that was when strong arms wrapped around her. That was when her fear suddenly dwarfed to nothing, her eyes shooting open in a mixture of surprise and shock. She could not move, nor did she want to, for he held her so still that she had a moment of doubt that either of them was even here.

The moment vanished when she feels the warmth of his breath in her ear in an unsteady exhale. “That is why, no matter how much it pains me, I cannot stay with you. This path I must take will turn me into someone you will hate. Perhaps it would have been better if I made you hate me from the start,” he placed the smallest kiss on her temple, following with a sad sort of chuckle, “But that would have been impossible, yes? My little halla, too delicate and too fragile for this horrible world I have created. I had to protect you from what I have done. I had to grow closer to you, for every day I found myself more and more fascinated with the woman that you are. Endlessly curious, always searching for knowledge, and yet somehow you remained naive to the evil that this world has become.”

Lips lingered on her skin, stealing away the warmth that rose to her cheeks, he spoke slower now, quieter, “Fate is as unkind as any, leading me to you when I have always known in my heart that we could not, can not, be. I must make things right and fix my mistakes.”

Aminthia found her voice, however shaky it was, “What mistakes? What do you need to fix? You should come back to Skyhold with me- our home.”

He exhaled, his hand brushing her hair as he pulled away, “I would... very much like to, but I can’t. Skyhold is your home, not my own. I had created the veil long ago, sealing away the ‘Gods’ of my time, banishing them for a crime that I can never forgive. Instead, I created this one, where my people are looked down upon, and practically tranquil,” he looked past her towards the elvhen ruins that laid in the valley, his eyes sad, full of despair. “Magic used to be everywhere, in everything. Everyone had a connection to it, the waking world and the Fade all as one. I must see to it that everything is as it once was, that the veil is no more-”

“Wouldn’t you be releasing the Evanuris? There must be a good reason you locked them away, a reason you created the veil- the ruins say you were helping the people. You were taking away their slave markings, the vallaslin. You protected them.”

“And in doing so I destroyed them. If I had not created the veil and sealed away the magic of this world, then-”

“I wouldn’t be here.”

Solas stared at Aminthia for a long while, his hands resting on her shoulders in a tight embrace. They loosened their grip, letting her go altogether as his expression turned to one of lost hope. “You.. are correct,” he murmured slowly, “You may, in fact, have come to exist, but you would not have been the same woman you are today. And it’s possible we.. may never have met.”

Aminthia swallowed down another wave of emotion, trying her best to keep a calm composure. However, she couldn’t hold it back any longer and wrapped her arms around his neck, her mouth meeting his in a passionate kiss. Unlike the past where he had pulled away or hesitated in his response, this time he returned her urgency with a sense of his own. His hands touching her, cradling her, fingers digging into her messy brown hair and caressing the back of her neck. Their mouths parted for mere seconds to allow laborious breathing, a groan escaping his chest when her teeth accidentally graze the soft flesh that is his lower lip. She half expected him to leave her and claim that they cannot do this, that he must go without her. Afraid that she will once again be alone she pressed her lips to his once more, only softer, sweeter. The taste of him was overwhelming. She was breathless. Her heart pounded in uneven beats. There was a heat that had fallen over her entire body, a feeling she has only felt once before, and only with one man. Solas.

He dragged his fingertips along her cheek, a slow caress that ended under her chin. It sent shivers down her spine. He tilted her head up, just slightly, and softens the kiss, his lips just brushing against hers in a tickling sensation. She was sure he was using some kind of magic to intensify the feeling. Weak does not begin to describe how her body felt.

But suddenly he pulled away, his breath hitching. She knew he would. She tried to ask him to stay, but there were no words spilling from her lips like water over the edge. There was no begging or pleading, nor were there tears in her eyes. Only shock, and the feeling of being abandoned.

He stood, “Vhenan-”

“Solas please,” she gasped, finding her voice after hearing his, a bloody tear dripping from her wounded eye. The blood-stained her cloak and her pale skin. He stared into her green eyes. Like a forest, he had said once. A beautiful ancient forest, where the elvhen built their spires that reached high above the clouds. Where halla danced and spirits roamed. He could be lost in them forever. He could, but he can’t. He glanced away, breaking their eye contact. “Vhenan, you have shown me that there are still wonderful people in this world. But it is still corrupted and wicked. In order to restore what was, I must destroy the veil. I must make things right. For the elves, for our people.” He was repeating himself, either to convince her or perhaps to convince himself. He must have had thought his plan over many times in the past two years while away. However, it seemed as though seeing her again was causing him doubt himself.

Aminthia opened her mouth, a desperate plea ready on her tongue, to show him that it was not too late to turn back- or perhaps to allow her to help him. Though instead of words, a cry of alarm formed. She jerked herself away from Solas’ grip, her mark sending sparks of pain and electricity through her arm. He was there by her side, his hands once again holding hers, “Vhenan!” There was worry in his voice. This only scared her. She was dying, wasn’t she?

“I don’t want to die,” she managed to say between heavy intakes of breath, “Solas, I don’t want to die!”

A steady fluid of magic filled her. It flowed from his hands into her body, numbing her arm. The scar from the mark stopped glowing, only for a time. “You are not going to die,” he reassured her, his eyes focusing on her hand, “I will not let you. If our paths are to part, I have accepted that. However, I will not leave you to die.” The numbing intensified until she could not feel her arm whatsoever. She sniffled, dragging her eyes from her hand to him, “Solas please, take me with you.”

His eyes did not waver. His expression was hard. “I can’t bear the burden of hurting you anymore. You cannot come with me. I’m sorry,” he paused and held her hand between his own, focusing on it, “The mark is killing you, but there is a way to keep it from doing so,” he did not look up at her as he spoke, voice growing quieter, “I can make it painless.”

She stared at him, her breath hitching in her chest, “What- what do you mean?”

She knew exactly what he meant.

He did not give her a moment to think about it, nor did he allow her a chance to retaliate, for his lips were on hers once more. She was taken aback, that same warm feeling in her chest and limbs. It was real, passionate. Their breathing was in sync, the world coming to a standstill. She felt everything, yet she felt nothing. Her body was numb, and there was no pain. She felt for a moment that nothing was wrong in the world, and all was right.

“I love you, ma vhenan. Good-bye.”

\----------

“-inthia..”

There was a voice calling, but it sounded so far away. It was in the darkness, fading and distant.

“Minty? Oh, Maker..”

The voice again. That time it was a little louder, clearer. A name. Her name. Her nickname, the voice sounding familiar. And it was full of worry. Dorian? She was suddenly weightless, her body lifting off the cold ground. Comfortable arms were cradling her, holding her closely. And they were running. Where are they going? Was she hurt?

She blinked her eyes open, eyelashes fluttering against the sudden light that pierces the darkness that once was. Footsteps pounded on the ground echoed around her, drowning out the sounds of labored breathing above her. Everything was moving so quickly that she couldn't focus on any one thing. So she closed her eyes and drifted off once more.

The next time she awoke, she was in a bed. Cole was sitting beside her, watching her intently. Aminthia blinked a few times, the world coming into proper focus. “Cole?” Her voice was hoarse. She peered at him, confused. “Where am I?”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, for she suddenly remembered, using her arms to sit up in order to look around for- “Solas-?” She could not sit up. She tried, but she was off balance and she collapsed back onto the bed. “What..?” Something was not right. Cole kept his voice low, but comforting, “Your hand is gone. The pain is gone because of it. No more burning or shocking or thoughts of dying. No more fear because it’s gone. Solas helped you, but in the only way he knew he could. He was gone when Cassandra and Sera and Dorian found you.”

Aminthia used her right arm to prop herself up and weakly glanced at where her left hand used to be. At the elbow was where it was now gone, nothing below the folded fabric around the stump. A sense of panic set in, choking her from within, her lips opening to let out a silent scream. Cole was beside her in an instant, his hand over her mouth to shush her, “Shh,” he soothed, “It is alright. I am here because I know you will be scared. But it’s okay now. You're not dying anymore, and you aren’t hurting anymore.”

“But-but my hand, my arm-” Aminthia started to hyperventilate, “How can I fight or bake or draw or do anything without my arm? Where is Solas? I need to find-” She pushed against Cole’s gentle hands and tried to stand, but he firmly kept her still, shaking his head. “Minty,” he said in a small pleading voice, “Solas is gone. Again. And this time, I do not think we will find him.”

Tears brimmed her eyes, threatening to fall, “No.. I wanted to help him, to be with him. He can’t just leave again- not again,” a single drop trickled down her cheek, with more following soon after. Cole sats with her and hugged her, saying nothing.

“I need to find him again,” she said in muffled breaths, her face pressed against Cole’s shoulder, “I need to find him.”

She closed her eyes, tears falling freely now between quiet sobs and hiccups and sighs. Clinging to Cole tightly, she whispered to herself, “I love you too, ma vhenan,” her voice cracking, “This is not good-bye.”

**Author's Note:**

> HOO BOY  
> Who else needed to cry? Only me? Oh.   
> Well, I hope you all liked this! I literally started writing this like, 3 years ago??? And just finished it tonight. SO yeah, that's a thing.  
> I'm just going to... go curl up in a corner now.


End file.
